When I was 10 I started to understand.
Before all this everything was fun and games, our fights were stupid, their fights were nothing but a joke- that's what I believed.
When I turned 10 my parents fought more, I started to understand how bad it was getting. I had 2 sisters. Lara, my older sister, was 4 years older than me and had a bad habit of spending money. She frequently stole my mom's credit card to buy things, while my little sister was an impolite brat.
My younger sister, Annie, was 2 years younger than me, she never learned manners so she grew up to be bad tempered and immature. I, on the other hand, was the polite one. I wasn't kind or anything, but I read situations better than my siblings. I matured more, I was quite smart for my age too.
As my parents fought more, as I lost friends, as I saw our situations, as my sisters made fun of me, I became buried in depression. It didn't help that I had the habit of pretending everything was alright, beneath the grin I wore, I had thoughts of self harm.
My parents were too busy to notice. I didn't hate my parents, I really did love them, but sometimes it was hard to. I just couldn't help but think about why they couldn't understand me. As they yelled, Annie would make a remark that would just make their fights worse. It was when this happened that I realized they didn't understand.
My siblings did not understand what would happen to the family if my parents divorced, they saw the fights as harmless flies, they didn't know how serious this was. Divorce is not a joke, but when I saw casual everyone was about it I grew furious.
They asked me who I would like to live with during their fights, all I could think about was, 'Don't they care about how I'm feeling? Don't they know how much it hurts to be asked that question? Why would they do this?'
I lied. I'd say that I would live with both, I put on a fake smile and tried to steer the conversation away. All this just hurt me more.
When I started 5th grade I was over with my depression. I had gotten to skip a grade in math, I was so proud.
That is until something happened again.
Lara had spent 1600$ on clothes using my mom's account. This was her 10th time this year, and it was only June. My parents were angry, they roared in anger.
They hit her. She cried saying that it wasn't her. She lied. I couldn't believe Lara would do that, why?
Why? Why didn't they understand?
As I watched helplessly, I saw my parents fighting, screaming and blaming one and another.
Why? My mom stomped on my dad's foot accidentally, dropping a metal container on him. He screeched in pain, his face contorted in pain. He pushed my mom, she slipped, she hit the bookshelf.
Her body was bruised and she howled in pain, my dad did too.
In the end they blamed Lara. I couldn't help it, the depression came back.
That night my dad and my mom fought more, I watched from behind the door, seeing my mom curse at him, telling him he should kill himself.
I thought, 'Does she know what she's saying? Does she know how it feels to want to commit suicide? Does she know how hurt he must be feeling?'
My dad cursed back, I could see both of them holding back tears. I cried for them, I prayed hard. I studied a little, hoping that I'd get a good grade to cheer them up.
The next day my dad had packed up a small suitcase, he came to my room to tell me he was leaving.
I asked if he'd be gone forever. He chuckled softly before saying he'd come back in 2 days.
He cried. It was my first time seeing dad cry that hard, I cried too. I wanted to be strong for both of them, but I couldn't be. I hoped he would feel better, I hoped he knew how much I cared for him.
After a week they divorced. It was at that moment my sisters understood. There wouldn't be 5 of us anymore. Our family couldn't be mended.
This was the end for us. We would be seperated now. I wanted to scream, to let all my pent up emotions out. I didn't, I hid them deep inside me again.
When I was 16 my dad had died. When I was 18 my mom died.
I turned into an orphan, by the time I was 27 I was working at a company.
That day, I was walking down the street, and Annie was calling me. She told me about her fiancé, I was laughing, covering up my pain.
There came my savior, a truck that hit me and killed me. I would be reunited with my family. Finally, I would see them again!
When I woke up in a strange place, my hopes were shattered.
"Who are you?!!"